


yellow tulips

by tadanoris



Series: leoji week 2017 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-19 00:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadanoris/pseuds/tadanoris
Summary: The first time Guang-Hong visits the flower shop, he enters with low expectations and the intention of getting out as quickly as possible.The fifth time he visits, he's pretty sure it has less to do with the flowers, and more to do with the man selling them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> meaning behind yellow tulips; "there's sunshine in your smile."

It’s a sunny day when Guang-Hong steps out, the weather not too warm nor too cold, one of the first warm spring days. There are birds chirping in the trees, people wearing shorts and t-shirts (though Guang-Hong sticks with his thick outside jacket for now, _thank you very much_ ), and students studying on patches of grass. The flower shops have just started putting their flowers on display outside, bringing color to the otherwise bland, gray streets.

Guang-Hong thinks it looks nice, the pop of color making one particular shop look welcoming among the impersonal chain stores. Despite its small size and poor location, this one seemed more inviting somehow, as if someone had actually taken time to figure out a nice display of flowers. Whoever had arranged it obviously had a good eye for color combinations and exterior design.

There’s a couple of pots of rhododendron on the steps by the door, as well as a little blackboard sign that reads, _Stop to smell the flowers! Open today!_ with a badly drawn bee and flower in the corner that makes Guang-Hong smile.

This flower shop was one of the few in the area that was open today– which was the only reason Guang-Hong had ended up here in the first place. He’d never come here before, simply found the shop through a rushed google search. Flower shops weren’t something he visited often, but this was an emergency. An emergency that could only be solved by flowers– an emergency that could have been avoided if Guang-Hong had just settled on a subject for his paint project earlier.

But it was too late to think about such details now. The store looked small and quaint, probably not offering a big variety of flowers, but it at least looked nice.

Cellphone in hand, Guang-Hong steps into the shop, a variety of flower fragrances immediately assaulting his nose. It smells nice, but he had to wonder how the workers could stay in here for the entire day.

At first glance, it doesn’t even look like there’s anyone working there. The only indicator that he’s not alone in the shop is the music playing softly in the background, some catchy R&B song Guang-Hong doesn’t recognize.

He navigates his way through the store, moving carefully between the small spaces between tables covered in leaves and pots. Most of the flowers are unfamiliar to him. Guang-Hong has never really been an expert when it comes to flowers; barely knowing the names of the flora his grandma usually had planted back home in Hubei. At least he’d been smart enough to google some names before coming here– now the only task was to actually find the right flowers among this little jungle.

“Hello!”

A sudden voice startles Guang-Hong out of his thoughts, and he just manages to avoid knocking over a bucket filled with rose bouquets. He turns to the source of the voice, finding a young man standing behind the counter, his face only barely visible behind the giant potted plant in his arms. From what Guang-Hong can see, he looks to be around his own age, with a kind smile that seems surprisingly genuine.

“Sorry if I scared you,” the man continues, putting down the plant on the floor. “Do you need any help?”

“Oh, um–” Guang-Hong’s instinctive response is to turn the offer down, but the other looks nice enough for him to actually say yes for once. “Yes, I’m looking for some specific flowers, uh–” He looks down at the note on his phone, names of flowers typed out and coupled with pictures to make sure he could find the right ones. “Do you have... azaleas, hyacinths, forget-me-nots and... poppies?”

“Sure do. Do you want them in a bouquet?”

“Preferably, yes.”

“Any specific colors?”

Guang-Hong thinks for a moment, briefly looking down at the pictures on his phone. “Um, just take whatever fits together?” Being an art student, color combinations was something he knew way too much about, but surely a florist knew just as much.

The man– Leo, according to the name tag on his chest **–** smiles with a nod, “I can fix that for you, just give me a moment.” Guang-Hong manages a quiet mumble of thanks, pocketing his phone as Leo gets to work on the bouquet. It’s obvious that he’s been doing this for a while, despite looking like he’s only in his early twenties.

“May I ask what the occasion is?” Leo suddenly asks, grabbing white poppies from a bucket. The question catches Guang-Hong off-guard, though Leo simply sounds curious, probably just making small talk. When Guang-Hong hesitates, Leo continues, “I don’t mean to sound nosy– it’s just that it’s a pretty interesting combination of flowers.”

Guang-Hong tilts his head to the side. “Really?” He had just chosen them because he thought they looked nice together, and judging from how the bouquet was coming along on the counter, it looked like he was right.

“Yeah, flower language and all that.”

“Oh,” Guang-Hong says stupidly, not even having thought about that. “I just need them for a project and I thought those looked pretty... Do they mean something bad?”

“No, no, they’re just not very... positive, I guess? Though it depends on the color too.”

Guang-Hong can’t stop himself from asking, inching closer to the counter to get a better look at the flowers, “So, what do these mean?”

Leo doesn’t look up as he arranges the flowers, though there is a smile on his face. “Well, I just took colors I thought would go together so I didn’t exactly make it better,” he admits sheepishly. “White poppies usually symbolize consolation, so lots of people give them to people who are going through a rough patch in life. Forget-me-nots,” Leo holds one up, “well, the name says it all. It usually has to do with precious memories. Azaleas can mean lots of things, like self-care or passion. And hyacinths... if I remember correctly, these purple ones symbolize sorrow or asking for forgiveness.”

Guang-Hong remains quiet, only nodding along with each new piece of information. He knew that many flowers had some kind of meaning, but he had never given it much thought.

When Guang-Hong doesn’t say anything, Leo looks up again, the smile on his face matching the sheepish tone in his voice. “Sorry, that was probably way more than you wanted to know. I’m just really interested in this kinda stuff.”

Guang-Hong gives a small smile, shy but genuine. “It’s fine, it _does_ sound interesting.” He wasn’t even saying it to be polite; knowing there was a meaning behind all flowers made the bouquet feel a bit more special, even if there was such multitude of clashing emotions behind the flowers he had chosen.

Leo seems satisfied with Guang-Hong’s answer, looking happy to talk about his passion. “So, may I ask what kind of project you need these flowers for?” he asks, putting in the last forget-me-nots.

“An art project. I needed some inspiration for a painting and...” Painting flowers wasn’t exactly _unique_ , but Guang-Hong would already be cutting it close to the deadline by choosing a subject for his painting this late. He had originally been planning on painting some crystals but he really didn’t have time to hunt down the ones he needed. “It’s kind of a last-minute thing.”

“Oh, you’re an art student then?” Leo asks and Guang-Hong nods in response. “Cool! You should let me see the painting when you’re done!”

“Uh, sure,” Guang-Hong responds hesitantly because he has no idea if Leo is just saying that to be polite. Guang-Hong doesn’t even know if he’ll come back here again– being a university student, he didn’t exactly have much money to spend on frivolous things like flowers. Even buying a bouquet for an important project felt like a waste of precious money that could have been spent on food that _wasn’t_ crappy ramen.

Leo finishes up the bouquet by wrapping it up in paper before punching in the total on the cash register. Bitterly, Guang-Hong pays the amount, reminding himself that these flowers could be the key to a good grade. He just had to figure out how to make this painting unique despite the rather mundane subject– but at least Leo had arranged the flowers nicely, each color going well together.

“Here you go,” Leo chirps, handing over the change. “Good luck on the project, I’m sure it’ll look amazing.”

And even if Guang-Hong had literally just met this person, there was a genuinely kind tone in the other’s voice that made him believe him. “Thank you, Leo.” It takes Guang-Hong a moment to realize that he had said the other’s name, but before he can begin to be embarrassed about it, Leo is smiling even wider. Guang-Hong ducks his head and leaves before Leo can ask for his name.

 

...

 

Guang-Hong is back at the flower shop surprisingly fast, even if it’s still two months since the first time. It simply feels fast because he hadn’t thought he would come back here at all. There’s many other flower shops that are open today, yet Guang-Hong finds himself standing in front of the same little quaint store he had found last time.

The display outside has changed, the previous flowers switched out with others that Guang-Hong can’t recognize. The sign by the door reads the same though, but with butterflies drawn on the bottom instead of the bee he had seen two months ago.

He’s got little time to analyze the variety of flowers outside, so he heads in; making his way to the bouquets. His eyes scan the pre-arranged bouquets– he has read up on the language of flowers since last time, so now he’s sure of what he wants.

“May I help you?” a vaguely familiar voice calls out, and when Guang-Hong turns around, he finds Leo standing there, this time with a tray of succulents in his hands. “Oh, it’s you!” Leo smiles, setting the tray aside. “The art student, right?”

Guang-Hong nods. He has no idea how Leo could still remember him given the time that has passed, but perhaps this flower shop got such few customers it was easy to remember those who came in? Or maybe Leo just remembered Guang-Hong as the guy who had gotten the weird bouquet.

“How’d the project go?” Leo asks casually, as if they’ve been friends during the couple of months they haven’t seen each other, as if they hadn’t only met once before.

“It was fine. I think it helped that you explained the, uh, meaning behind the flowers.”

“Glad I could be of help then!” Leo grins, “What can I help you with today? Another bouquet for an art project?”

“Um, not exactly,” Guang-Hong replies, gaze glancing over at the bouquets. None of them look like the one he had had in mind. “I mean, I do need a bouquet, but do you think you could arrange one for me again?”

“Of course. What flowers do you want in it?”

This time, Guang-Hong doesn’t need to look at his notes to remember the flowers he wants. He had been looking them up so much, he remembered the names by heart. “Chrysanthemum, camellia, zinnia and sweet peas.”

Leo nods, getting straight to work, putting together in the flowers with surprisingly delicate movements. “Is it a gift for someone?” he asks.

Guang-Hong hesitates, “Uh, kind of.”

“The person you’re giving this to is lucky then.” Leo obviously doesn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, the tone in his voice feather light like he was just saying it to be nice. Perhaps he said it because of the combination of flowers– Guang-Hong had made sure to choose flowers that wouldn’t overshadow each other, yet still blend well together. However, this time, Guang-Hong had made sure to look up the meaning behind all the flowers. “It’s a pretty combination of flowers, perfect to put on display in the window or–”

“It’s for a funeral.”

Leo’s smile falls so quickly Guang-Hong feels like he can hear it clatter to the floor. It kind of makes him feel bad for springing it on Leo like that. Perhaps he should have just kept his mouth shut. “Oh, sorry– I didn’t know–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” Guang-Hong waves the apologies away, a soft smile on his lips. “That’s why I chose those flowers. I looked up the symbolism.”

Leo nods, gaze fixed on the flowers on the counter. “Sweet peas...”

“Departure,” Guang-Hong replies, “That’s what the internet said they stand for at least.”

Leo nods, looking sympathetic. “Right. I’m sorry for your loss. And sorry for assuming things.”

Guang-Hong doesn’t say anything to that, simply gives him a soft smile and looks away. He’s grateful that Leo hadn’t asked about who it was that had passed away at least– he had already given Leo way too much information about himself, he really didn’t need to tell him his entire life story while he was at it.

Leo finishes up the bouquet and Guang-Hong is quick to pay before disappearing out the door.

 

...

 

The third time Guang-Hong visits the flower shop, it’s for another art project. This one is much more important than the last had been, making up for much of his grade in the subject. He knew that painting a simple bouquet wouldn’t be enough this time, yet he finds himself drawn to the idea of painting flowers again. The last painting, though not particularly unique, had ended up nice enough for him to get a decent grade on it. All he needed to do was to step up his game, to make his painting _more dynamic_ , in the words of his teacher. Something bright and vibrant, something unique yet familiar, something that could lighten his mood.

With his bag slung over his shoulder and an easel under his arm, Guang-Hong enters the flower shop for the second time that month. He’s not surprised Leo recognizes him this time, his smile bright enough to light up the room. “Hey, art student!” he greets, reminding Guang-Hong that he had yet to tell him his actual name. “You got another project?”

Guang-Hong nods and only then does he realize that he probably should have asked for permission before just barging in with an easel and a bag full of paint. Leo looks just as cheerful as always, but Guang-Hong can feel nervousness bubbling up within his chest. He really should have thought this through– but it was too late now. He swallows hard. “Yes, I, uh– I was wondering if it’s okay if I paint here a little bit.” His voice is quiet and hesitant, the question lingering in the air for a moment before he backtracks. “It’s okay if you say no! I really should have asked before just coming in like this– I just figured this would be a nice place to paint since, uh, all the flowers and all, they’re pretty and even the leaves look pretty when the sunlight hits them like this–”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Leo is quick to cut off his rambling before it can get too bad, waving one dismissive hand. He looks amused but no less kind. “There’s not really much room here, but I can help clear some space for you–”

This time it’s Guang-Hong’s turn to cut Leo off. “No, no, you don’t have to. I can just sit here by the cashier, if that’s alright? I don’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be,” Leo reassures him. “We usually don’t have that many customers anyway, so I’m sure it’s fine.” Even with Leo’s reassurances, Guang-Hong can’t help but feel like he’s inconveniencing the other, but at least Leo had said it was fine. He might as well take advantage of it now that he had the chance.

Guang-Hong begins setting up his equipment, using a small corner of the counter to place his pencil case and some paint tubes on. It’s a small easel that matches the size of the canvas, and he knows he’ll have to use the space effectively in order to fully capture the atmosphere of the flower shop.

_The atmosphere of the flower shop..._

He wonders why this particular flower shop interested him so much that he wished to paint it. He could blame it on the fact that it was smaller and more hidden away, meaning there were fewer customers that he would get in the way of. He could also blame it on the location, as it was only a ten minute walk away from his dorm. Getting here was convenient and it was an easy place to just sit down and relax, even with the strong fragrances tickling his nose. It was a nice atmosphere; sun filtering in through the large window, making plants cast leaf-shaped shadows on the flowers; the radio playing somewhere behind him, filling his head with cheerful melodies he could tap his foot to; and Leo... Leo’s presence was what really brightened the atmosphere.

But Guang-Hong keeps that to himself. He barely even dares to dwell on that thought before he ducks down and tries to focus on the painting.

As Guang-Hong gets to work, so does Leo. Leo makes some comments now and then, but mostly he lets Guang-Hong work in silence. Leo doesn’t ask to see the painting nor does he ask anything too personal; he simply continues on with his own tasks of rearranging bouquets and occasionally singing quietly along to the radio. It makes Guang-Hong smile behind the canvas, but he doesn’t comment on it.

Leo also informs Guang-Hong that he’s the one who’s been writing and drawing on the blackboard by the entrance. “I’m obviously no art student, but I tried my best! The carnation looked pretty decent at least, right?”

Guang-Hong blinks. “I thought that was a butterfly.”

“...Okay, that works too. Not exactly what I was going for, but it’s still relevant for a flower shop.”

By the time Guang-Hong has to call it a day, the sun is hanging low in the sky, shining almost directly in his eyes. He could probably keep going, but he already knows he won’t be able to finish the painting today. At least he’s managed to make decent progress.

“Did you finish it?” Leo asks when he notices Guang-Hong packing up. “Not yet, but I’m too tired to keep going. Plus, I need to get back to my dorm and make dinner.”

Leo nods, climbing down from the ladder he’d been on to reach the highest shelves. “Sounds like a good idea. You’ve been going at it for a pretty long time.”

Guang-Hong wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been sitting there and painting, but the rumble of his stomach and the ache in his back told him it had been for quite some time.

He’s about to put the pencil case back in his bag when Leo speaks up again, “Oh, wait, you got a little something–” Leo taps his right cheek, indicating that Guang-Hong probably had some paint on his face. Guang-Hong quickly moves his hand to mirror the movement on his own cheek, trying to find the spot.

“A little bit more to the right– No, no– Actually, let me just–”

Before Guang-Hong has any time to react, Leo is reaching out towards his face, his thumb gently swiping at Guang-Hong’s cheek. When Leo pulls back, there’s a small green blob on his finger. “There.”

And while Leo simply looks happy for having removed the paint, Guang-Hong feels like half his brain just flew out the window because all he manages to say in response is a quiet, “Uh.”

Leo hesitates, looking genuinely worried. “Sorry, should I not have–?”

“No, no, it’s– uh, thank you.” Guang-Hong manages at last, and _god_ , he can already feel his face heating up, so he ducks his head again and busies himself with packing up the rest of his things. Unfortunately, he’s always been the type to blush easily, no matter how many times he tried to force himself not to. Most of his friends knew not to think anything of it, but he didn’t want Leo to get some kind of wrong impression because of it.

“Thank you for letting me paint here,” Guang-Hong says once all his things are packed up, easel once again secured under his arm. “I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother.”

Leo is quick to wave away Guang-Hong’s worries, “You weren’t, don’t worry. You were so quiet, I almost forgot you were here sometimes.” He pauses then, face scrunching up in a mild grimace. “...I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

Guang-Hong can’t help but chuckle. “I hope it’s okay that I come back then. I’ll probably only need to come here two more time to finish it up.”

“Of course. Just come over whenever you want to.” Leo grins, “Honestly, it’s pretty cool that you chose to paint this little flower shop. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened since I started working here. I kinda feel like I’m a part of it too somehow.”

Leo’s enthusiasm is nothing short of adorable and Guang-Hong finds himself unable to stop smiling. “I’m glad. I’ll be back here tomorrow then,” he says, his free hand holding onto the strap of his bag as he moves towards the door.

“I look forward to seeing you– Oh, wait, I still haven’t gotten your name.”

Oh, right. “Guang-Hong. But you can call me Ji if that’s easier.”

“Guang-Hong,” Leo says, ignoring the offer of calling him by his last name instead. Guang-Hong has been in America long enough to have the pronunciation of his name butchered several times and in different ways, which was why he often insisted on being called Ji instead. He had even met a couple of people who didn’t even try saying his first name, simply asking for _‘something simpler’_ right off the bat. “Guang-Hong,” Leo says again, a growing smile on his face. “Am I saying it right?”

Even with Leo’s American accent coating his name, Guang-Hong nods, “It’s perfect.”

When Guang-Hong gets home, stirring a pot of hot and sour soup, the sound of his name on Leo’s lips still makes him smile. He looks forward to hearing it again.

 

...

 

Guang-Hong shows up at the flower shop again, two days later. Leo isn’t there.

He’s tempted to leave and come back another day, but with the deadline creeping closer, he has no choice but to ask the unfamiliar florist by the cash register if he can sit down and paint there. The florist agrees somewhat grumpily, but Guang-Hong leaves after only an hour.

The atmosphere in the shop doesn’t feel right without Leo there.

 

...

 

When he shows up again the next day, Guang-Hong tries to steal a glance through the window to check if Leo is there before he goes in. It takes him a moment to spot the familiar little brown ponytail, nearly hidden behind the large leaves of potted anthuriums– another flower Guang-Hong now knew the name of due to Leo’s extensive knowledge.

Leo, who’s crouched down and watering plants on the lowest shelf, turns the second he hears someone stepping inside the shop. Perhaps it’s just wishful thinking on Guang-Hong’s part, but Leo’s expression quickly brightens up when he spots him. “Hello, Guang-Hong!” he greets as he stands up. Guang-Hong thinks his name sounds just as nice as the last time Leo had said it. “Back here to continue your painting?”

Guang-Hong nods, already putting down the easel the same place he had last time. “I was here yesterday too, but I didn’t get much done.”

“Yeah, Seung-gil mentioned some ‘quiet painter boy’ coming in yesterday– I figured it was you.”

“Were you sick?” Guang-Hong finds himself asking before he can stop himself. For a brief moment, he’s afraid he might have overstepped some kind of boundary by being so nosy, but Leo doesn’t look like he minds the question.

“Nah, I just didn’t have a shift yesterday. I was stuck in class.”

It made sense that Leo was a student as well, seeing as they were both around the same age. He was simply one of the many students who worked a part-time job on the side. Guang-Hong admired him for that– he had briefly tried job-hunting as well, but being an art student took up enough of his time and energy, so he had given up quickly.

“What’s your major?” Guang-Hong asks. Leo doesn’t seem to mind the questions so Guang-Hong figures he can ask some while he’s setting up his equipment.

“Music,” Leo answers with a proud smile, and somehow, Guang-Hong isn’t surprised. Even if they might not know each other that well, he felt like Leo was the musical type. In his head, he could picture Leo strumming a guitar, playing the type of melody he liked to dance to around the shop.

Guang-Hong finishes setting up the canvas, and this time, it’s much easier to start painting again. Leo keeps him company, his presence offering that light and vibrant atmosphere he had missed the other day. The two of them work in comfortable silence, Leo alternating between arranging bouquets and helping the few customers who stop by. Sometimes he goes outside to fix the display there, or offer advice for those looking at the potted plants. Guang-Hong keeps quiet, so focused on the painting, he doesn’t notice the passing of time until he feels something poking his arm.

“Here,” Leo offers a granola bar when Guang-Hong looks up, and only then does he notice that it’s almost completely dark outside. “You’ve been working nonstop for hours now, I should have offered you something to eat earlier.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine–”

Leo pokes him with the granola bar again, “No, seriously, take it. I don’t know how you haven’t noticed, but I could literally hear your stomach growling.”

Embarrassed but unable to hide his hunger, Guang-Hong accepts the granola bar. “Sorry– I didn’t notice–”

Leo, as always, is quick to shoot down the apologies Guang-Hong has to offer, the same kind smile always present on his face. “It’s fine. But you should probably get some proper food soon. I don’t have much here.”

Trying not to be too eager, Guang-Hong unwraps the granola bar and takes a bite, only then realizing how hungry he really is. At least he still has some leftovers at home he can easily heat up again.

“Thank you,” Guang-Hong says once he’s swallowed a couple of bites, looking up at Leo again who has a granola bar of his own in hand.

“No problem,” Leo says. “I usually have at least four of these on me at all times. Not exactly the ideal snack, but it’s enough for the way home.”

Ah, right. Leo would probably be closing soon and Guang-Hong really needed to get home as well if he wanted to have enough time to read for tomorrow’s class. Taking the granola bar in his mouth, Guang-Hong quickly begins to pack up. Leo helps him even when he makes sounds of protest around the bar, but Leo just smiles and continues packing up his pencil case.

The evening ends with the taste of honey on his lips and Leo’s smile stuck in his mind.

 

...

 

Guang-Hong comes in a couple of days later with the intention of finally finishing the painting. He doesn’t have much left now, just minor details to make the painting feel more complete and whole. There’s still something missing from it, as if there’s something he has forgotten, but even as he sits down by his usual spot and gets to work, Guang-Hong doesn’t feel like he’s getting any closer to completing it. He’s managed to capture the sunlight, the vibrance of the red poppies, the ornate details of the shelves, yet Guang-Hong remains dissatisfied.

After five minutes of just staring at the paining, Leo speaks up. “Is everything alright?”

Guang-Hong whines, “Yeah, it’s... No, not really.” Leo gives him a sympathetic smile over the edge of the canvas, standing by the potted yellow tulips.

“Art block?”

“Kind of... I just can’t figure out what the painting is missing. I know there’s something but...” Guang-Hong lets out another low whine, leaning his cheek in one hand and making vague hand gestures with the other.

There’s an amused smile on Leo’s face now. “You’ve already come so far with this painting, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Maybe you just need to make something up, y’know? Add in details that aren’t really there– just think of what you feel like belongs in a flower shop.”

Guang-Hong mulls over the words for a moment before suddenly straightening up. He knows Leo probably means things like different types of flowers or pots that he could add to make it seem like any typical flower shop, but when Guang-Hong thinks of flower shops, there’s one specific thing that comes to mind.

So he paints while he still has the idea clear in his head. He paints what he thinks of when he comes to this flower shop, he paints the atmosphere he has grown so accustomed to over all his visits and the hours he has spent here.

He thinks of bright smiles that put sunflowers to shame; he thinks of sunlight filtering in and making a certain pair of brown eyes look like they’re made out of liquid gold; he thinks of music accompanied by soft singing and feather-light footsteps that move to the beat across the room.

And when he finally feels like he’s finished, the sun already on its way down, Guang-Hong sees Leo on his canvas, clad his in his uniform and with a box of potted yellow tulips in his arms, a soft smile on his face.

“It’s done,” Guang-Hong announces quietly, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

Leo perks up from where’s sitting by the cash register, a smile blossoming on his face. “Can I see?” Guang-Hong hesitates only for a moment before he figures that it’s fine, giving Leo a nod. Leo deserved to see the painting, especially seeing as he was now technically a part of it. Perhaps it was a little odd to have painted Leo, but Guang-Hong knew that the painting wouldn’t have been complete without him.

Leo looks at the painting over Guang-Hong’s shoulder, and Guang-Hong can’t help but sneak a glance to check Leo’s expression. His mouth hangs open, chapped lips forming a soft circle. In his eyes, there’s so much wonder and awe, Guang-Hong has to look away in embarrassment, looking back at his painting.

“...Is it alright?”

“It’s amazing,” Leo says at last, voice quiet. “Like– holy shit. I figured you’re good at painting but this is... Beautiful. And you even painted... me.”

Guang-Hong feels his face heat up at the praise, though he’s unable to stop himself from smiling. “I hope that’s okay.” Leo chuckles somewhat breathlessly, “Of course it is.” He pauses for a moment then, and Guang-Hong thinks he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. “Does this mean I was the thing missing from the painting?”

Guang-Hong manages a timid nod, not quite trusting his voice for now. It feels like Leo’s only centimeters away from touching Guang-Hong’s back and his face only heats up further. Even when he feels Leo lean back again, Guang-Hong doesn’t dare move or say anything. His gaze remains on the Leo he’s painted on the canvas. The smile can’t measure up to the real deal, but Guang-Hong had known it would turn out like that. A smile that bright couldn’t be accurately recreated no matter how hard one tried. But this... this was good enough. Especially when it made Leo smile.

“Does this mean you won’t be coming here anymore then?” Leo asks, and it catches Guang-Hong so off-guard that he ends up turning back to Leo again. “Since you’re finished with the painting and all.”

“Oh,” says Guang-Hong, because he hadn’t quite thought about that bit yet. He had been so preoccupied with finishing the painting, he hadn’t realized that finishing it would mean he no longer had any reason to visit the flower shop. Sure, he could still stop by to actually purchase some flowers, but again, his limited student budget didn’t really allow that.

“Maybe we could–”

“Do you want to go out sometime?”

Their voices blend together for a moment, but in the end, it’s Guang-Hong’s question that comes out loudest. He doesn’t even know how he had managed to say it properly, but the second he realizes what he had asked, the blush on his face only deepens. But even with embarrassment burning his cheeks, for once, Guang-Hong doesn’t backtrack or offer apologies. He keeps his gaze trained on Leo, brows slightly furrowed because _wow_ , Leo could easily just turn him down and kick him out right now, he could tell Guang-Hong to fuck off and never come back, and all Guang-Hong would have to remember him by would be the painting that smelled of roses and sun-filled days.

But Leo doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he smiles and nods, and Guang-Hong thinks that there is no flower beautiful enough that could possibly measure up to that smile.

“I would love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> one-shot written for leoji week, the prompt being flowers! thank you to my lovely friend isa-isa, the yuuri to my phichit, for being my super amazing beta!! 
> 
> hmu at twitter @ tadanorisera if u wanna scream about leoji w/ me !


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